


Touch

by Fyrielle



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Fluff, donger mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 04:13:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15162392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyrielle/pseuds/Fyrielle
Summary: Two months after waking up from his coma, the lack of physical interaction takes a toll on Estinien. Warrior of Light Fyris Vellir provides.





	Touch

Estinien would make a full recovery, the doctors had finally said after a long few weeks. Yet he was still to remain in his room for possibly a couple more months. Not only did his exhausted body need to heal, but he also had to relearn to have full control over his limbs. He was able to walk, hold things and just live in general, but sometimes his legs would just give up under his weight, or he'd unexpectedly drop whatever he was holding. He was frustrated of course, but remained hopeful. He'd been very lucky. His condition was very much an one of a kind, but everyone assumed that if Nidhogg had remained in control longer, he might not have been able to reclaim his body at all. 

It was a surprise to everyone, but Estinien showed a lot of patience. So as to make the long wait less painful, his friends would visit him as often as possible. Even the Warrior of Light, despite her busy schedule, was here almost every day. More than just one time did she come through the window past visitation hours so that Estinien wouldn't be lonely. Did she fall asleep by his side? Oh, more than just one time. But it was their secret.

That one night, she was here as well, sitting on his bed by his side. They could only use a small candle; they might lock the door, they still didn't want to arise suspicion with a room lit up bright as day all night.

Estinien was just resting, and Fyris observed him in silence. He had regained a bit of weight, but it would take a while for him to rebuild muscle again. His figure was much leaner than it'd been during their journey. But it was alright. He would come back even stronger eventually.

He slowly opened his eyes, examining her as well. He couldn't tell her how thankful he was that she was by his side, but Gods did he wish he had the courage to.

"Are you feeling well?"  
"I am."  
"You seem preoccupied."

He reached for her hand, his long fingers intertwining with her much smaller ones.

"I have a request," he finally said.  
"What is it?"  
"It will probably sound odd."  
"Estinien, we are close enough that you shouldn't have to worry."

He pursed his lips. Yes, they were close, agonizingly so, yet far from close enough to his taste. His request felt awkward and pushy, no matter how many times he rehearsed it through his head. Still Fyris waited patiently, her soft gaze never leaving his face.

"Would you touch me?"  
"... I am touching you," she said while pointing at their hands with her chin.  
"I mean... More than this."

Still simply stared at him, not sure she understood what he meant. He blushed and looked away.

"Mine apologies, that was a stupid request."  
"No, it's not! I'm just trying to understand. Where is this coming from?"

He sighed heavily.

"I've been here for almost two months and I don't think anybody's touched me for anything other than medical purposes."

She felt a wave of sadness. Surely after almost losing his mind and very life, he was in need of some comfort. Friendship and love he'd been shown plenty, but now that she was thinking about it, who touched him last? Except for the times she'd been holding his hand, she could only recall Aymeric embracing him after he regained consciousness. Two months ago.

"I'm sorry... It didn't occur to me that you were feeling sad."  
"I am not sad," he explained. "Just... Trying to feel alive, I am guessing."

She situated herself to be able to face him more easily. She gently took his hand to her face and kissed his palm with a tenderness that shook him to the very core. She then placed his hand in her lap, and her fingers followed his long arm up to his shoulder and neck. She tenderly pressed her palm to his cheek, appreciating the warmth radiating from him. He nuzzled her hand, savoring her touch.

"Your hand... It's always so cold," he muttered almost to himself.  
"I don't suffer from it. That's just how I am. Do you mind?"  
"Absolutely not."

She pulled a strand of hair behind his ear, a little surprised by how soft it was. She hesitated a second, then ran her hand through his mane, marveling at the silkiness of it.

"Your hair is so smooth..."  
"Well, I do untangle it from time to time, unlike a certain person."

She resisted sticking her tongue out and settled for flicking his forehead instead. He glared daggers at her while she barely held back a giggle. 

"... Did you just flick me?"  
"Does that not count for touching?"  
"... Touché."

She laughed a little more, trying to remain as quiet as possible. Her hand returned to his long hair, following a strand until she reached his shirt. She ran the tips of her fingers on his exposed collarbones, trying to ignore the way he breathed in sharply as she did so.

"... Is that alright?" she asked while pinching the first button of his shirt.  
"... It is."

She gently unfastened the first few buttons, examining the difference in their skin tones. Estinien wasn't very tan, but her flesh looked white, almost blueish compared to his. That made him look healthier in her eyes, and it was a reassuring feeling.

She sneaked a hand under the fabric, pushing it ever so slightly past his shoulder, uncovering more of his skin.

"I really wish I had two hands," she whispered.  
"You are fine."  
"Do you mind me getting closer?"  
"... Please do."

He shivered as she removed her hand from his skin. To his surprise, she kicked her boots and climbed the bed, deciding to straddle him. She sat carefully on his thighs, looking in his eyes to make sure she wasn't hurting him, but he simply nodded. It might have been the lighting, but she could have sworn his ears and cheeks were flushed. 

She resumed touching him lightly, only using the tips of her fingers to graze his skin. More and more often she would push the fabric past his shoulders, as if she was hoping to get rid of it without unfastening the last buttons. She ran her hand from his bicep to the nape of his neck, pausing here for a second.

Oh the temptation to just pull him to her and kiss him! But she knew she'd only get a peck on the lips. Estinien had been very clear about not wanting more as long as his duty lasted. So she simply sighed, her hand dipping to the next unfastened button.

For some reason, the first buttons had been easy to work past with one hand. But this one just wouldn't budge. Fyris sighed in frustration. She was used to doing everything with one hand, but the one occasional difficulty would always occur at embarrassing times.

"Allow me," Estinien finally said in a raspy voice.

She had to swallow as he finally shed the shirt. Sure, she had seen him naked before. Plenty of times even. But it was the first time she was so close, allowed to stare, and on top of that, allowed to touch.

Her fingers immediately went for a major scar that was catching her attention. She felt it with the lightest of touches.

"It doesn't hurt," Estinien reassured her.  
"I couldn't tell. Some of mine are still painful."

She admired how toned and chiseled his chest was, the harmonious shape of his muscular arms, the perfection of his torso. Everything about him was stunning and beautiful, and she felt even more enamored than usual. She noticed they were both breathing rather hard and wondered if it was a good idea to continue.

"Fyris..."  
"What is it?"

He cupped her face, his hands as tender as ever.

"Do you mind?"  
"Estinien..."

He kissed her softly, his lips pressing against hers just a tad harder than usual. This was torture.

"Estinien," she whimpered.  
"What is it, mine sweet thing?"  
"I'm sorry... This is really hard on me."

She took a deep breath. 

"You want more," he simply stated  
"I'm sorry."  
"Why are you apologizing?"  
"Because you don't want me."

He stared at her in silence for a couple seconds. Then he grabbed her hand and pressed it to his lower belly. She almost yelped in surprise when she felt just how hard he was.

"I don't think I can find better proof of how much I do want you."  
"Then why..."  
"When the time is right. When I'm healthy again. When I feel free. Then I promise I will satisfy you. In all ways."

She blushed furiously.

"Will you hold me at least?"  
"Of course."

He pressed her to his torso, giving her a huge, peaceful smile; his heart was beating like a hammer. Because of her. For her.

She spent the night in his arms, against his bare chest. She didn't sleep much. She was too busy caressing his skin, stroking his hair and listening to his breathing. They could not be more intimate yet, but if they could share this level of intimacy, she reckoned they would be just fine


End file.
